


And Many More

by WingSongHalo



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Fluff, M/M, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1652510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingSongHalo/pseuds/WingSongHalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four days after that, he'd heard the intern asking Monogram in hushed tones, "But sir, shouldn't we at least tell Agent P what it's for?" He sounded quite distressed, and his voice had adopted a pleading tone. "I feel like we owe him that, at least!"</p><p>"If we tell him what it's about, he won't even show," Monogram had responded gravely. </p><p>Perry wondered very seriously if the Agency was going to fire him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This has been on tumblr for a while, so I figured I should put it up here too.  
> Enjoy the fluff! New chapters will be posted every couple days.

Perry is worried.

It started about three weeks ago when the OWCA banquet was announced. Perry isn’t really sure what it’s for, but from what he’s heard from the other agents, everyone is pretty excited about it. The Agency doesn’t have events very often (“It’s not in our budget,” Monogram always said, and then shushed Carl when the intern pointed out that perhaps it would be if they hadn’t blown all that money on so many lair entrances), so Perry figures he should go, if only for the social component. He turns in his RSVP the day after the event is announced. His “and guest” box is checked.

"Hmm…I don’t know if we want Doofenshmirtz seeing the inner workings of the Agency," Monogram had said. He stroked an invisible beard with his thumb and index finger, looking over Perry’s RSVP card. "I guess since he worked here for a day, the damage is already done. Well, it’s highly irregular," he concedes, frowning deeply, "but I suppose you can bring your nemesis as your plus-one, Agent P." Perry was satisfied with that.

After that, though, things had started…happening. Things that made the platypus agent wonder if being so carefree was really very wise. The other agents seemed increasingly distant with him and they averted their eyes nervously when he passed, as if they knew something the platypus didn’t. Two weeks ago, after some particularly boring paperwork at the OWCA Headquarters (Pay No Attention To This Sign), he’d delivered his work straight to Major Monogram. He announced his presence with a polite chatter, and the Major started in his seat as Perry came toward the desk. Perry is not a nosey platypus (he has a bill, thank you), but he couldn’t help but notice some files on his boss’s desk. It might have been because they said “AGENT P THE PLATYPUS” at the top in large letters, or maybe it was the fact that one of them had “DO NOT DIVULGE TO AGENT P” written in red and circled sloppily and the other had a big red date on it underlined several times (for two weeks from now, the platypus calculated quickly).

“Agent P!” Major Monogram blurted, quickly shuffling the papers around in a manner that was not at all dignified. When this only resulted in several of them fluttering off the desk, he instead opted to lean forward, clear his throat, and ask briskly, “Um, I mean…what is it you need?” The way in which he attempted to cover the documents with his arms was not even a little subtle. At the time, Perry didn’t give too much thought to this behavior. Monogram’s quirks frequently baffled him and he’d learned to just meet everything with a poker face. He held out his completed paperwork in answer. Seeming to recover himself a bit, the Major smiled and accepted the proffered papers. “Turning your paperwork in in-person, eh?” he said. “Or…in-platypus, I suppose.” Perry just blinked at him. Monogram cleared his throat again. “Right then,” he said, sounding more businesslike. “I expect you to be ready for your mission bright and early tomorrow. Have a good night, Agent P.”

Perry saluted smartly and left.

Three days later, he dropped down into his chair (he’d used one of the lair entrances concealed in the side of the house today—it required one to turn the water spigot clockwise once, counter-clockwise thrice, and then clockwise twice). He was not, however, greeted by the usual “Good morning, Agent P.” Instead, he saw Monogram’s back. He was speaking to Carl, who was obviously out of frame.

"For the last time, Carl, we can’t tell Doofenshmirtz about it," the Major said firmly. "He can’t keep a secret to save his life. He’d ruin everything. He always does," he added in grumpy undertone. Perry made a noise halfway between a polite cough and a platypus chitter. His boss turned rapidly, almost stumbling in his haste. "Oh! There you are, Agent P." He cleared his throat and continued, hardly missing a beat. "We’ve received word that Doofenshmirtz has purchased a large fan, a giant mixing bowl, 10 gallons of molasses, 20 pounds of feathers…and, uh, a tube of toothpaste, but we aren’t sure if that’s related." Perry blinked, his face stoic and unimpressed. "Right," Monogram said hastily. "Probably not. Well, no good can come from the other things. Find out what he’s doing and do your thing, Agent P!" Perry saluted and hopped into his platypus-sized jet, barely hearing Monogram’s mutter of "I can only imagine the horrors one can unleash with that many feathers."

He wondered somewhat worriedly what secret Monogram wanted to keep from his nemesis. He didn’t stop wondering all day.

Two days after that, he’d caught Carl looking over photographs of Perry and Doofenshmirtz (where had he gotten those?) that had been paper-clipped to unknown files. The next day, he’d overheard his boss whispering, “Not a word of this to Agent P, you understand? We don’t want to fluster him.” Carl responded seriously that his lips were sealed. What in the world would fluster _him,_ an unflappable secret agent, he wondered? What were they trying so desperately to hide from him?

Four days after that, he’d heard the intern asking Monogram in hushed tones, “But sir, shouldn’t we at least tell Agent P what it’s for?" He sounded quite distressed, and his voice had adopted a pleading tone. "I feel like we owe him that, at least!"

"If we tell him what it’s about, he won’t even show," Monogram had responded gravely.

Perry wondered very seriously if the Agency was going to fire him.

——————————-

Now, with only two days to go before the banquet, Perry finds himself consumed with anxiety. He looks over his shoulder at every turn, convinced that someone from the Agency is watching him and evaluating him. He tells himself he should have been more careful. His host family has almost caught him entering his lair multiple times, a friend of the family knows his secret and he is hiding this from his superiors, and a year ago he destroyed a car entering his hideout. He thinks guiltily that some of his confrontations with Heinz are the exact opposite of “low-profile.”

Heinz. Perry is sure that, like every other anxiety in his life, this is all tied back to Heinz. Their battles have become more and more public. He’s attended social events with him, gone grocery shopping with him. For goodness’ sakes, he has _appeared with him on television, helped him throw a birthday party for his daughter,_ and _attended his family reunion._ In retrospect, all the things he’s done with (for) the evil scientist seem ridiculous. What has he been thinking? This is a guy who has thrown him off of buildings, tried to turn him into a bunch of bugs, built a robot specifically to destroy him, and left his nemesis in the desert.

(He’s also a guy who loves his daughter more than anything, always offers him something to eat, bought him a vase for Christmas, and came back for his nemesis in the desert, but Perry’s not thinking about all that. Much.)

His fellow agents continue to treat him with carefully-contained nonchalance, like there is a pressure-sensitive trap under Perry’s feet and they are all afraid of setting it off if they don’t tread lightly. He’s getting sick of being treated like a fragile little snowflake—he wishes someone would just get it over with and tell him that they’ve overheard what a disgrace to the OWCA Agent P is. Additionally, neither Monogram nor Carl are behaving like themselves. Monogram speaks to him in clipped, business-like tones, and Carl seems merely nervous and quiet. Neither will meet his eyes, not even as they wish him good luck on his missions. Perry would be angry at them about it if he wasn’t so heartbroken.

Heinz is excited about the upcoming banquet. “It will be so nice to see all your little agent friends again,” he says gleefully, clasping his hands like some kind of teenage girl (Perry would know: he’s been one for a day). “Except for the duck,” the doctor adds with sudden vehemence. “Ooh, I hate that guy. _Hate_ him!” Perry crosses his arms and glares, which is considerably less effective at communicating irritation when you’re in the ridiculous position of dangling by one webbed foot from the ceiling via a complicated pulley-based trap.

Perry wonders if it’s best to un-invite Heinz from the banquet. He doesn’t know how he would tell him something like that, both because he is incapable of actually telling him and because his nemesis just seems so enthusiastic and happy to be included (although if you asked him, he’d probably say he was just going so he could gather information he could use later to blackmail everyone). No, he won’t turn his back on Heinz. The man has had enough of that (from everyone) for several dozen lifetimes. Even as an ever-present weight of dread takes up residence in the pit of his stomach, he carries on as if everything is normal. He only feels a little panicked when he jetpacks off the roof of DEI to a wave and a cry of “Curse you, Perry the Platypus, and see you tomorrow night at the banquet!”

If the OWCA discharges him, would they demolish all his secret entrances to his hideout (not to mention the hideout itself)? Would they repossess his fedora? Would they prevent him from fighting and visiting Heinz? That, he decides, would be where he draws the line. Thwarting the eccentric scientist was the only thing that gave him purpose as a force for good. He could find satisfaction in being a pet and love in being a part of a family, but it is his daily battles with his nemesis that ignite his determination and let him know who he really is. No, he thinks, even if he were to no longer officially be Doofenshmirtz’s nemesis, he would still thwart him and visit him. Become a vigilante, maybe.

Making a promise to himself about this gives him comfort, if only a little.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Agent P, Perry the Platypus, please join me here onstage.”

Before he knows it, the night of the banquet has arrived. His fellow agents mill around the reception hall (nice place, Perry comments to himself), chatting amongst themselves in that quiet way animals do. Most of his coworkers have opted to bring an animal friend or no guest at all. Perry is the only one who has brought his nemesis, unsurprisingly. Heinz chatters excitedly to Perry about how “I think Roger had a charity dinner here once! I tried to ruin it with a Spoiled Meat-inator, but it was actually a vegetarian event so that wasn’t very successful” and “Ooh, look, there’s a _leeemur_ agent! I didn’t think lemurs were native to Danville.” The other animals give him a wide berth—the last time the evil scientist had been involved with the Agency, things hadn’t ended well. Especially for Major Monogram’s car. Perry is somewhat surprised to note that none of them confront him (except perhaps for the Duck, who gives Doofenshmirtz hateful looks whenever he passes). They watch the doctor guardedly, but seem to be forcing themselves to maintain an air of what the platypus can only identify as “reluctant respect.” He thinks Heinz would be very appreciative of this, if he wasn’t too busy blathering away to Perry to notice. Perry makes some cursory attempts to mingle, but hushed conversations always sputter to a stop when he approaches a group. Pinky the Chihuahua and Herman the Hedgehog are huddled in conversation and Perry has just started towards them when Pinky glances his way and nudges Herman pointedly. They grow quiet immediately. Perry forces down the stab of hurt he feels in his chest. He’s always gotten on fairly well with those two, and here they are talking about him like everyone else.

The meal is delicious, though Perry is too worried and consumed with dread to properly enjoy it. Heinz has no such reservations. He babbles throughout the entire meal (Perry wishes he would stop long enough to chew, at least around other agents). The others look at his nemesis with hidden disdain, the way one might shoot glances at a friend’s unruly and slobbery dog, but they continue to not verbally object to his presence. When everyone is finishing up their meal (Heinz is surreptitiously slipping hors d’oeuvres into his pockets, and shrugs sheepishly when Perry gives him an admonishing chatter), Carl elbows Monogram’s shoulder and looks at him significantly, his eyes darting to Perry momentarily. Monogram takes the hint and rises from the table, unfolding a few sheets of paper that he’s pulled from his pocket. He walks up onto the little stage at the back of the dining room, which is only a yard or so away from the table, and calls for quiet. The conversation dies down gradually, and Perry watches intently, suddenly seized with anxiety. Somehow he _knows_ that this is it. This is the end.

The Major clears his throat, a fist held to his bushy mustache, and shuffles the papers he’s holding. “I don’t have to tell you all how unique you are,” he begins, and though there’s no microphone, his gruff voice carries throughout the room adequately enough. “It’s as plain as the fedoras on your heads. To others, you might be a pet or a zoo fixture or a neighborhood stray, but to all of us here at the Agency you are so much more. You are employees, model citizens, and—” he glances at Perry, who jumps and starts to sweat nervously—“even friends.” The platypus blinks. He wasn’t expecting that. Especially after the cold way everyone has been treating him the past few weeks. Monogram carries on, glancing down at his papers before addressing the room again. “It takes a special kind of animal to fight evil,” he says. “One must be able to resist the temptation to give up; to not let their moral compass become corrupted and their worldviews blurred into shades of gray. Since this Agency’s inception, we’ve had one goal: Fight evil. And since this Agency’s inception, you all have done just that. You’ve done your jobs. You’ve fought the good fight. You’ve been honorable, brave, clever, and resourceful. You’ve faced down evil with a steely glare and an iron paw.” The Duck squawks. “Er, or, you know, other various appendages,” Monogram amends. “You have been ruthless in your pursuit of evil, and you’ve done everything we’ve asked.” Here he pauses. “You’ve all handled Evil the way we’ve asked—all of you, except one Agent.”

Perry’s heart stops.

Monogram says, “Agent P, Perry the Platypus, please join me here onstage.” Heinz smiles at Perry obliviously from the seat next to him. He legitimately can’t see why anyone would ever have a bone to pick with Perry (other than his seeming inability to use doors). The platypus feels a warm rush of affection for his nemesis that doesn’t at all manage to mask the cold dread that has seized him. He gulps and walks towards the raised platform.

His heart is hammering so hard he can hear the blood rushing through his head, and every step sounds like the ticking of a massive clock, counting down to the end of his life as he knows it.

He clamors onto the stage, and takes his place next to Monogram. Monogram raises a hand, and Perry braces himself, thoughts irrational and racing wildly, ready for anything: a request for his badge, an admonishing finger, even a blow.

Instead, Monogram lays a hand on his shoulder (he has to crouch down a bit to do so) and smiles proudly at him. Perry’s eyes go wide with confusion. “Agent P,” Monogram says, and his voice is warm. “You have demonstrated traits I’ve never seen in any other agent before. Your ruthlessness is only outmatched by your mercy. Your fury can only be rivaled by your kindness. You can turn any drawback into an advantage, you can escape traps faster than one could say ‘inator,’ and…” He glances out at Doofenshmirtz. “You can turn a nemesis into a friend.” There are murmurs in the crowd. “Not a friend to _me_ ,” Monogram clarifies, his brow drawn in a scowl at the thought. 

"Same to you, _Fraaaancis_ ,” Heinz calls out. Some of the other animals glare at him.

"Your methods," Monogram continues, "are unusual." Perry smiles a little sheepishly. "You are a master fighter and smart as a whip, but you are also not afraid to show mercy. Your assignment to Dr. Doofenshmirtz has become what is undoubtedly the most interesting matchup in the Agency’s history." Perry is glad he has fur so no one can see how much he’s blushing. "I don’t know how you put up with him, but you do, Agent P. You help each other, you save each other, you visit each other even on your days off, and we all knew Doofenshmirtz was going to be your Plus One before you turned in your RSVP." Quiet laughter from the audience. "In fact, we counted on it, because we thought you should both be here. You two are an example to us all, how our jobs and our moral alignment do not have to interfere with our friendships. I see a bright future ahead for the OWCA and evil scientists everywhere: nemesisships based not just on mutual hate and a piece of paper saying you must fight each other, but on a mutual respect and an understanding that underneath the job lies two individuals who should ultimately look out for each other."

"Agent P, you make us all proud with your bravery and heroism, your loyalty and strength, but most especially you make us proud with your love." Perry knows he means "love for mankind" love and "love for friends and family" love, but the statement, said so plainly but carrying so much significance to Perry alone, still makes his knees week. He stands firm, though, and merely gives Monogram a shaky smile and a quick salute.

Some of the agents hand each other handkerchiefs and dab their eyes. Doofenshmirtz yanks one out of a cat’s paws and blows his nose loudly.

"Happy Nemeversary to you both," Monogram concludes, "And here’s to another 5 years of frenemesisship."

The other agents applaud (a somewhat less-impressive sound when made with furry paws and wings, but a gesture of support nonetheless), and they actually mean it.

"That was beautiful, sir," Perry can hear Carl sob over the din as Monogram hops off the stage to rejoin the table.

"Carl, you wrote the speech," Monogram points out.

"I know," Carl blubbers. The dog agent sitting next to him graciously hands him a tissue, into which the intern blows his nose with a sound reminiscent of a foghorn.

Left standing unnecessarily on the stage, head reeling with relief and fairly aglow with both bashfulness and pride, Perry realizes somewhere in the back of his mind that he had completely forgotten about his and Heinz’s nemeversary. Has it really been 5 years? He glances at his nemesis incredulously. The self-proclaimed doctor is smiling in a way that he would totally deny as being _affectionate,_ and he gestures for Perry to come back down to his seat. Perry’s feet move almost automatically as he does so.

"It was awfully nice of you to throw us a party, Francis," Heinz says when Perry has settled back into his chair. "I didn’t know you cared!"

"It’s to show the OWCA’s appreciation for Agent P’s continued efforts and acknowledge the longest-standing continuous nemesisship in the history of the Agency. It is not for _you,_ " the Major grumbles, crossing his arms. "And it’s not a _party;_ it’s a _banquet._ ”

"Then what are all those presents for?" Heinz says smugly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms to mirror Monogram, indicating a table piled high with packages with a jerk of his chin. Perry’s eyes widen as they scan over the assortment of different-sized parcels, some wrapped clumsily or in pretty gift bags and others sitting unobtrusively in paper bags. There is at least one gift that is not wrapped or concealed at all—several, actually, now that he looks closely. Wow, Perry thinks. How in the world had he managed to miss _that?_ He must have been more distracted by his anxiety than he’d previously thought. “When do we get to open them? I want to open them!” his nemesis continues, clapping his hands together like a six-year-old girl. Perry would roll his eyes, but the thought strikes him that this is quite possibly the only event that has ever been planned in Heinz’s honor, the only time he has ever received gifts from more than one person at a time. He suddenly can’t find it in him to begrudge the man his childish joy.

"You can open them whenever you want," Monogram says stiffly. "But don’t expect to be the center of attention or—" He doesn’t bother to finish his sentence, because the scientist has seized his fellow honoree’s paw and rushed off with an excited, high-pitched sound that Perry refuses to acknowledge as a _squeak._

"Which one should we open first, Perry the Platypus?" Heinz asks, eyeing the packages with something that is less like greed and more like someone trying to memorize the beauty of an undisturbed landscape. "I’ve never had to _choose_ before!” The platypus shrugs, a reluctant smile quirking at the corners of his mouth. He’s somewhat glad that the other guests are not making the gift-opening an “event.” They are all chatting amongst themselves or helping themselves to seconds of their favorite dishes. “Wait, I know!” the man (read: overgrown child) exclaims. “Which one is yours, Perry the Platypus?” His smile is expectant. Perry blinks in confusion. Weren’t they all his? Well, theirs, really. “You knowww,” he says conspiratorially. “My nemeversary present from you!”

Perry shakes his head and extends two empty hands. “It’s a handshake?” Perry shakes his head again. “You left it at home?” Perry shakes his head a third time as he makes an ‘x’ with his arms and then gestures around himself in a sweeping motion to indicate that there is nothing there. “It’s invisible?” Heinz guesses. Perry glares, resting his hands on his hips. His nemesis gasps, pointing a single dramatic finger at the platypus. “You _forgot_ our nemeversary, didn’t you? I can’t be _lieve_ you, Perry the Platypus!” Perry’s shoulders slump and he looks at the floor in shame. He hadn’t meant to forget. He’d just been too busy worrying about his job to think about it.

Heinz crosses his arms. “Well, you—you’re just lucky there’s all these other presents here to make up for _your_ thoughtlessness”—Perry makes a dismayed face—”that’s right, _thoughtlessness,_ " he repeats. "I got something for _you;_ I was going to give it to you later tonight.” Perry’s not surprised that Heinz has assumed that they will be hanging out after the banquet. He toes an invisible scuff on the floor and glances up at his nemesis guiltily.

"Don’t make that face, Perry the Platypus; it makes it very hard for me to make accusations against you," Heinz says, and Perry knows that he’s forgiven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment. I'd love to hear from you~


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nemeses open presents and enjoy each other's company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this up here. I'm going to blame it on the fact that I was sick this week.

They open presents after that. Well, Heinz opens presents. Perry’s feeling especially fond of his nemesis today, so he even picks up a few presents and makes cursory attempts to open them to make Heinz feel like he is evil when the scientist snatches the parcels away and tears them open with gusto.

Newton the Gnu gives them each a roll of duct tape. Heinz makes another “Duct-taped Platypus” joke, but Perry knows it’s actually Newton’s way of telling Perry that he needs to keep Heinz’s mouth shut. Agent Silent G’s secret identity being leaked had not endeared Perry’s nemesis to the gnu. Gary the Gander (is he still an active agent? Perry wonders) gives each of them a flower lei. “You know, Perry the Platypus,” Heinz says, draping Perry’s around the platypus’s neck, “You are really too uptight. You should be more _leeeeeei’d back_.” Perry just sighs.

Manny the Mongoose had evidently heard that Heinz collects Nemesis Toys. He had finally procured one of himself, which he has given to Perry’s nemesis. Perry isn’t sure whether that’s weird or sweet, but Heinz seems happy with it, so he supposes he shouldn’t look a gift mongoose in the mouth. Sergei the Snail, being the new spokessnail for Totally Tools, gives them both a really cool toolbox filled with nifty… well, tools (the snail totally gets them for free, Perry thinks). It’s a surprisingly nice gift, considering the last time Heinz and the snail had interacted, Heinz had tried to trap the agent in a ring of salt and Sergei had slammed the evil scientist into the wall numerous times.

The duck agent hands (wings?) Perry’s nemesis a small, wrapped, cube-shaped parcel. Heinz holds the package up to his ear as Agent D walks away. “It’s ticking!” he exclaims with delight. “Oh, how wonderful—my alarm clock quit working last week! The darn things break so easily. Especially when you smash them with a hammer or throw them against the wall.” Pause. “Gee, I am really not a morning person.” Perry rolls his eyes. Heinz shakes the parcel slightly. “Oh, I wonder if it’s platypus shaped, or—or if it plays a little song when it’s time to get up! This is a very thoughtful gift, Perry the Platypus,” he adds as an aside to his little nemesis. “Take notes.” He seems pretty content, but Perry’s eyes go wide as he hears a faint series of beeps from the package. He yanks the box out of Heinz’s hands. “Hey!” he protests. Perry runs outside with the package, Doofenshmirtz in pursuit. The package is beeping more rapidly.”Perry the Platypus, you’re being very rude! Is this because I started one of my evil schemes at 5 in the morning last week?” Perry throws the parcel as far as he can. His nemesis gasps in horror, and is about to scold Perry, but then the package hits the ground.

And explodes.

Heinz doesn’t say anything. He just stares at the blackened spot on the asphalt, wide-eyed. He continues to not say anything as Perry takes him by the hand and drags him back inside. Perry notes to himself that apparently if he ever wants to shut Heinz up, he just has to make something explode.

Monogram has very strict words with the Duck. The Duck leaves the banquet early, waddling out as angrily as a duck can waddle without looking too ridiculous.

Terry the Turtle gives them a jell-o mold, which, like Terry himself, is half orange and half green. It pleases them both because orange and green are Heinz’s and Perry’s favorite colors, respectively, though the platypus agent very much doubts the turtle knew that (Perry has only ever told Heinz his favorite color). Agent D approaches them personally to give them a squeaky toy shaped like a fire hydrant. Neither of them are quite sure what to do with it, but they thank the dog anyway because he seems pretty excited about it. In the fox agent’s gift bag there is a new grappling hook for Perry and a tape measure for Heinz. The evil scientist begs Perry to switch, but Perry’s not giving in this time; this grappling hook is awesome!

From the frog agent they both receive a swimsuit. “Thank goodness!” Heinz says. “My old pair of trunks was so badly acid- burned I finally had to throw them away.” Perry stares. “What? Don’t look at me like I’m crazy; you’re the reason it got destroyed!” When Agent F approaches them later, they also each receive an invitation to his and Agent C (Claire the Cow)’s wedding. They smile and offer awkward congratulations. “I’m not even going to contemplate how _that_ relationship works, Perry the Platypus,” his nemesis mutters to him. Perry nods, but thinks to himself that Heinz really has no room to talk on that regard. His ex-girlfriend left him for a whale, his best friend is a platypus who beats him up on a daily basis, and he has a robot that thinks Heinz is its father.

Agent M gives them some bananas. “Bananas? Really?” says Heinz, looking unimpressed. Agent M is barely out of earshot. “I feel like that is very cliché, because, you know, he’s a monkey.” Perry glares at him, but privately agrees. The other Agent M has given them a rather nice fruit tray. “Huh, that’s—I wasn’t expecting that,” Perry’s nemesis says. After a short pause, he continues unnecessarily: “I was kind of expecting cheese, you know, because she’s a mouse. I guess my expectations were lowered after the monkey.”

In the paper bag from the first Agent R, a raccoon, there is a lamp that appears to have been glued together. “Did he get this from the trash?” Heinz says incredulously, holding the blue-and-purple ceramic gingerly. Perry shrugs. “Oh, I would SO refuse this gift if you hadn’t broken my lamp last Thursday.”

The other Agent R, the rhinoceros, gets Doofenshmirtz a pair of pantyhose in one of those containers they used to come in. “Ohhh, he remembered! I thought he wasn’t listening that whole time!” Heinz coos. Perry stares, and his nemesis chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, uh, it’s a long story, Perry the Platypus. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”

Agent CH didn’t show, since he is on a mission and is pretty secretive. He does send a card, though. “Boy, this guy’s handwriting is amazing!” Heinz exclaims. Perry guesses chupacabras must be pretty dexterous.

The first Agent W gets them a cake. “How did he even get this here?!” Heinz asks, baffled. Perry shrugs. The worm agent works in mysterious ways. The other Agent W is not in attendance, but they find a package from him. He’s gotten them scuba gear. Heinz refuses to use it. “I’m sure he’s a perfectly nice agent,” he grumbles, “But I just cannot in good conscience use anything given to me by a WHALE, Perry the Platypus. I don’t trust them and their macaroni and cheese recipe leaves a lot to be desired.” Perry walks away for a while.

Lyla Lolliberry has sent them a scrapbook of photos of the nemeses over the years (with a handwritten note apologizing for not being in attendance). Perry privately wonders where in the world she got all these pictures, but as Heinz is too busy exclaiming things like “Ohhh, Perry, look at your little platypus tail hitting me in the faaaace!” and “Aww, look at you, you look so cute when you’re trapped in that baby swing” and “Gee do I always slouch THAT badly, Perry the Platypus?”, he doesn’t say anything. Not that he could.

There are also parcels from Carl, Peter, Pinky, and some other agents as well. Perry wonders if some of these agents even know him and Heinz. He guesses a lot of them don’t. If they did know the doctor, there probably would not be as many presents. The platypus wonders if getting a gift for them had been made mandatory. It seems like the sort of thing Monogram would do. “If you want to enjoy a social event, buy Agent P and his nemesis a gift!” Perry can almost hear him saying. “We have a little money in the budget for special awards and gifts, but I may have used it for a vacation with my wife earlier this month.” Yeah, that’s probably what happened.

Perry is tired by the time everyone is cleaning up and leaving the reception hall. Heinz is talking less, and Perry guesses that means he’s wearing out, too. Peter the Panda tips his hat to Perry, who returns the gesture, before he leaves. Pinky yips a good-bye. Other agents are trickling out slowly, and soon enough, Perry, Heinz, Major Monogram, and Carl are the only ones left. Doofenshmirtz invites Perry over to receive his present and a piece of Black Forest cake, which he may or may not have made for the occasion. “I didn’t make it for _youuu_ , Perry the Platypus,” he says at the platypus’s surprised expression. “I just happened to _REALLY_ want Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte!” Perry raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “I promise, I won’t even trap you this time! Just the two of us and a cake.” Perry sighs. His inability to say no to Heinz has nothing to do with his inability to talk. He nods.

The two honorees get Carl to help them load their treasure trove into Heinz’s van, which the two are driving back to DEI. “Are you sure you’ll be okay there this late?” Carl mutters to Perry when he kneels down to shake his paw. Perry smiles and nods. Even if Heinz does trap him, he would handle it. Monogram hands them a fruit basket and salutes Perry. The platypus salutes back, and his boss and the intern climb into Monogram’s car and are off.

"Well," says Heinz, watching the two drive away. "I guess it’s just you and me now, Perry the Platypus." Perry, as usual, says nothing. "Let’s go then!" his nemesis says suddenly, clapping his hands together once. Perry nods and attempts to clamber into the passenger side seat of the van. He manages to reach the handle of the door, but he can’t seem to quite reach—

Suddenly a pair of hands has wrapped around him at the waist and hoisted him up into the seat. “Sometimes I forget how little you are,” Heinz says. Perry chatters resentfully. Doofenshmirtz belts himself in as Perry does the same, and they arrive at DEI shortly afterward. They take the elevator up to Heinz’s apartment. “I’ll bring all the gifts up later. I don’t want to make so many trips,” the evil scientist says with a dismissive hand-wave. Perry agrees.

"Okay, Perry the Platypus," Heinz says, flipping on the lights. "I just have something small for you because I don’t know where you live, or what your designing preferences or storage options are, and I also don’t know if what’s a nice gift for a human makes a good gift for a platypus." Perry thinks that’s the most long-winded way to say "I didn’t know what to get" ever.

Doofenshmirtz had not forgotten their nemeversary, Perry reminds himself. Of all the things his nemesis does less-than-perfectly, he at least never forgets things like this. “Here you go, Perry the Platypus!” he says cheerily, holding out his gift. He’s bought Perry flowers. They’re purple and somewhat sickly-looking. Perry thinks he might have seen them in a field guide of poisonous plants, but Heinz’s smile is so earnest and genuine that he reaches out and accepts them with a hopefully convincing smile. He holds them gingerly, the way one might hold a snake or a stick of dynamite. Heinz looks pleased.

He’s gotten a card for his little nemesis, too. It says “To My Wife” on the front, and the last word is scribbled out in thick black Sharpie with “NEMESIS” scrawled next to it in untidy, angular handwriting. Heinz hadn’t needed to change any of the flowery text inside: none of the sentiments needed alteration. Perry supposes that should feel strange to him, that they apparently fit the criteria for a married couple, but honestly he’d stopped being surprised by such things years ago.

The cake is delicious. Perry kind of expected it to be, having seen firsthand how many desserts Heinz is capable of making, but it still impresses him. He licks his fork clean. The platypus is tempted to lick the bits of chocolate still stuck to his plate, but decides not to, as he likes to conduct himself with a bit of dignity. “Wow, you really put that away, didn’t you?” his nemesis says. “I’ll have to remember you like Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte.” A pause. “I mean, so I can convert one into a trap for you,” he adds. Perry offers him his best unamused glare. “All right, all right, I’m just kidding. Yeesh, you’re just as humorless at night as you are during the day.” The statement stings a little, but Perry knows it wasn’t meant to hurt him, so he doesn’t react. He lays his fork down and straightens his fedora on his head, and hops out of the chair at the kitchen table. He grabs his flowers (carefully) and card.

"Time to go, I suppose," the doctor guesses. Perry nods. He salutes his nemesis gratefully and chatters softly, hoping the man will understand his "I’m sorry" and "thank you." Doofenshmirtz nods, like Perry has spoken perfect English, and says, "Anytime. I do expect you to help me carry all that stuff up here tomorrow, though. You can consider that your gift to me." Perry smiles. That sounds fair. "Happy nemeversary, Perry the Platypus," Heinz says as Perry opens the door. The agent turns and points back at his nemesis. _You too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't understand Terry the Turtle's gift, you should look him up on the Phineas and Ferb Wiki. ;) 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting these parts up! It's been pretty crazy lately. I turned 23 on the 10th, though :) Anyway, please enjoy!

Perry is just a few minutes late for his briefing the next morning. There is a small wrapped package under his arm, and he holds it to his body protectively as he slides down the tubes leading to his lair and drops into his chair.

"Agent P, you're late," Monogram notices. Figures that he would notice the one time it happens, the platypus thinks. "We'll let it slide this time because you must have been tired after all the excitement yesterday," his boss concedes. Perry gives him a grateful salute. "Now, onto your briefing," the Major continues. "We have reason to believe that—"

Suddenly, the screen frizzes out with static and a _ksssshhhhh_ noise. Perry's just about to try tapping the monitor when the picture returns as quickly as it had gone. However, this time the screen is split between two people. Perry smiles and waves to the other familiar face.

"Hey, P!" says Lyla, grinning and giving a little wave in return. She flips her long brunette braid over her shoulder in a carefree gesture. "Sorry I couldn't be there yesterday! Evil never rests." Perry shrugs and smiles to let her know that he hadn't been offended.

"Lyla Lolliberry?" says Monogram incredulously, looking off-camera left and seeming to somehow be able to see her from his side of the screen. "What are you—how did you intercept this transmission?" He looks straight ahead, past the camera. "Carl, how did she intercept this transmission?"

"I—I don't know, sir!" Carl answers nervously from behind the camera. "She shouldn't be able to, and I have no idea where she's calling from!"

"Obviously _Canada,_ Carl. I'm paying you too much for this job."

"You're not paying me at all, sir," the intern points out.

"I know," Monogram grumbles.

"Speaking of things that never rest," the COWCA agent continues as if Monogram and Carl had not spoken, "How'd ya like your present? Kept myself up for weeks working on that! Good thing I live right next to a Tim Horton's, eh?" Perry gives her a happy thumbs-up to show his approval.

"EXCUSE ME, I AM TRYING TO BRIEF AGENT P," says Major Monogram, sounding more pouty than angry.

Lyla doesn't seem to be able to hear him. "It was pretty hard to track down all those photos, but I had a little help from the inside!" She winks conspiratorially.

"Wait a minute, YOU made that scrapbook?!" Perry's superior exclaims.

"Oh, yeah!" Lyla answers proudly, resting a hand on one hip. Hm. So she _could_ hear Monogram.

"Those pictures were from personal reports in Agent P's mission files!" the Major scolds. "They are highly classified information!" His white mustache blusters around comically in his outrage.

Lyla rolls her eyes. "Psh," she scoffs. "Please. Termite-Controlling Helmet. Chicken Replace-inator. _Ballgown-inator._ "

"THAT COULD BE HIGHLY DANGEROUS IN CERTAIN SITUATIONS, YOUNG LADY," Monogram explodes.

"Anyway, happy nemeversary, P!"

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?"

"I'll catch you later, platy-nater!" the Canadian woman says cheerily. "Good luck on today's mission!" Perry waves fondly, smiling. The screen fizzles and then is replaced with the usual single-screen shot of Monogram's head. The Major is silent for a moment, and the only sound Perry hears for a few seconds is the quiet beeping of all the equipment in his lair.

"Well," Perry's boss says finally, "Now that we seem to be out of danger of any _further interruptions,_ I can tell you what I was _going_ to tell you. We have reason to believe that Doofenshmirtz may be…" he leans forward as if sharing a secret. "… _planning something._ " Having divulged this crucial information, he looks at Perry intently for a few seconds. Perry stares at him, his eyes half-mast in his typical unimpressed face. "Oh," Monogram says, leaning back again. "You, uh, probably want to know what it is we think he's up to." He clears his throat. "The thing is, we don't know. He's been pretty quiet since last night. But, uh, he's _usually_ planning something, so we thought it best to cover the bases, right?" Perry blinks once, slowly. Monogram continues hastily. "Right! So, uh, get on over there, Agent P, and good luck!" Perry salutes and hops into his hovercar, which begins to rise towards the circular exit in the ceiling.

"Carl, what time does _Most of My Children_ start? I missed it last week and I'm dying to know what happens with Larissa and Clark," Perry hears him say before he jets away, wrapped parcel held safely by his side.

* * *

"Perry the Platypus!" Heinz says from within when he hears Perry padding up to his door, his webbed feet having no doubt made a distinctive pattering sound. The agent makes a note to himself to be quieter next time. "Your visit is truly unforeseen. And by—What, are you just standing there? Open the door, Perry the Platypus; it feels awkward doing this when I can't see you."

Perry sighs, then reaches up and turns the door handle. He pads inside, the wrapped package concealed behind his back in one paw, and looks up at Heinz, motioning for him to get on with it.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" He _ahems_ importantly, then adopts a villainous pose, grinning wildly and pointing to Perry dramatically. "Perry the Platypus! Your visit is truly unforeseen. And by unforeseen, I mean _completely foreseen!_ "

There is silence. Perry looks around from left to right, then to the ceiling and floor. Bewildered, he chatters at his nemesis.

"Oh," the evil scientist says at length. "You were expecting a trap." Perry shrugs a sarcastic _kinda, yeah._ Heinz takes up his villainous voice again. "But you _seeee,_ Perry the Platypus, _I have already trapped you!"_ He drops into a conversational tone. "By obligation. You promised to help me move everything from the van up to my apartment, remember?" Perry sighs. He remembers. "Good! Well, I guess we can get started right a—wait a second, what do you have in your little platypus hands?" Perry gives him his best _who, me?_ expression, but it must not be very convincing. "Don't play innocent with me, Perry the Platypus; I can see you hiding something behind your back!"

Perry smiles wryly and produces the parcel from behind his back. It's thin and rectangular, wrapped up in orange-and-yellow paper (the paper had been picked out for Phineas's birthday, Perry recalls). Heinz makes a delighted squeaking gasp. "Perry the Platypus!" he says ecstatically. "Is that a _present?_ For _me?_ " For someone who opened like twenty presents last night, he sounds remarkably like a person who has never received one before. Perry nods and holds it out to him. Doofenshmirtz rips it out of his paws and tears at the paper so fast that his hands are a blur. "A wooden stirring spoon!" he announces gleefully, plucking the gift from its box and holding it aloft like a prize. "Why, Perry, you remembered that the fifth anniversary is the Wood Anniversary _and_ the Silverware Anniversary!" Actually, he'd gotten it because he'd broken Heinz's wooden spoon last month while using it to assault him, but the platypus supposes he can let his nemesis think what he wants. He shrugs and offers the man a sheepish smile.

Heinz pokes Perry's bill playfully with one long finger. "You sly platypus, you, pretending that you'd forgotten just so you could surprise me today." Perry whaps away his hand, but can't help smiling in return at the evil scientist's doting tone. Leave it to his nemesis to assume that Perry always had a plan. "Ooh, and _looook_! There's a note attached to the box! I didn't even notice when I was unwrapping it. Let's see here: _'Dear Dr. D, happy 5_ _th_ _and here's to many more! Yours truly, Perry the Platypus._ ' Awww, why Perry the Platypus," he coos, "That's so sweet of you! I take back what I said last night at the banquet: you are not thoughtless. You are very thought _ful._ " The agent clasps his paws behind his back and smiles at the floor, a little overwhelmed by all this sentimentality.

"Come on, my little nemesis," the doctor says, taking Perry's paw and leading him away. "I think we have a little time before we have to start hauling things up here. There's another piece of black forest cake with your name on it! I mean, literally, because I wrote ' _Happy 5_ _th_ _, Perry'_ on it in icing." Perry smiles up at him and walks beside him to the kitchen.

* * *

The presents were many and varied, but the two nemeses attempt to use each and every one of them gratefully.

Peter the Panda had given them matching sweaters that Perry is pretty sure he knitted himself. Perry throws his out the day after the banquet because dear _lord,_ matching sweaters? Embarrassing! Heinz, however, wears his almost weekly, and Perry can't decide whether he's flattered because of its connection to him or jealously annoyed because of its connection to Peter.

Pinky gave them an old toaster. Neither of them understands where he got the toaster, why he only gave them one, or why it's a toaster, but it's a toaster. Heinz uses it to make the most delicious grilled cheese (well, cheese on toast) sandwiches ever, which he shares with his nemesis.

Carl had made them a mix CD, which is simultaneously the sweetest gift and also the one that makes Perry want to crawl into a hole the most. He is baffled to discover that it contains songs ranging from "Sweet Caroline" by Neil Diamond to "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne. Doofenshmirtz pretends he hates it, but Perry catches him humming "Girlfriend" frequently.

Major Monogram's fruit basket had come with a little card attached. It says: " _I expect you will share this fairly. Heinz, don't eat all the cheese, and Agent P, don't use this food as a weapon in your next fight. It was very expensive."_ They do as he asks. Heinz only eats ALMOST all the cheese.

Herman the Hedgehog does not know Perry very well, but he did once accidentally end up in Perry's lair when the secret entrance tubes were being cleaned. He must have noticed that Perry's lair was very rigid and work-oriented, because he'd gotten the platypus a motivational poster. Perry thinks it's kind of ridiculous, not to mention scientifically incorrect. Heinz adores it and uses it as the basis for his next evil scheme. "BEHOLD, PERRY THE PLATYPUS! THE SHOOT-FOR-THE-MOON-INATOR!" he shouts proudly with a theatrical flourish before returning to a light conversational tone. "It shoots people I don't like to the moon! Or—or maybe to a star," he says with less enthusiasm, holding his chin in one hand and contemplating the impressive machine, "I'm not sure how precise my calculations are."

Two days after the banquet, there's a ring at Heinz's doorbell. "Hold on a moment, Perry the Platypus," Doofenshmirtz says, holding up a hand to halt Perry's progress as the platypus jumps towards him with one webbed foot out in preparation for a face-kick. Perry touches back down to the floor impotently. Heinz answers the door. Outside, there is a potted hedge trimmed in the shape of a platypus. A small card attached to a toothpick in the soil says  
 _"CONGRATS  
-PLANTY"_

Perry and his nemesis decide they're not going to ask questions about this one. Heinz puts the hedge on his balcony. Perry has caught him practicing monologues to it at least twice.

Barry the Bear ("Agent B" to those outside the Agency) has given them one of those bear-shaped containers of honey. It's totally cliché, but Perry likes honey in his tea, so he is actually quite pleased. Heinz uses it in the tea the next time he invites Perry over for a cup. He also uses it as a trap to stick the secret agent to the floor, but at least it was useful.

Agent C, or Chelsea the Chicken to her friends, gave them a carton of eggs. Heinz is pleased, and plans to use them in his next baking recipe. Perry refuses to eat them. He generally refrains from eating things that emerge from his fellow agents.

Agent Kitty's gift was a "Hang in There" poster for Heinz, to show him there were no hard feelings between them about the evil scientist (and legal ocelot)'s time at the Agency. Perry is very touched by the gesture. The next time he foils his nemesis, he makes sure he has a camera. He turns the resulting picture of a blackened and sizzling Doofenshmirtz into a little poster that says "Have a Blast!" Agent Kitty keeps it in his cubicle.

Agent K, or Karen the Kangaroo, has given them little pouches to wear around their waists, much in the nature of a fanny-pack. Perry crashes through the roof of DEI one day to discover that Heinz has converted his into a trap for the platypus.

"Wow, I can't believe you actually fit in that pouch!" the evil scientist exclaims. "You are so _tiiiiny,_ Perry the Platypus." The secret agent glares. He rips through the fabric with his ankle barbs and punches the doctor in the face. He's still big enough to kick his butt. "Hey!" his nemesis cries in dismay, somewhat nasally because he is cupping one hand over his nose. "That was a gift from Agent K!"

Perry ends up staying afterward to help Heinz sew the pouch back together, but only after the scientist promises to use the gift solely for good from now on.

Heinz's flowers are placed in the vase he'd once given Perry for Christmas. They may be poisonous, but they brighten up the secret agent's lair anyway.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part ends a little abruptly, but it would have been weird to divide it elsewhere, so oh well.
> 
> Pssst, if you're reading this, please take the time to leave me a comment, even if it's just a short one! I'd really appreciate it ;)


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are more surprises, and a conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW I didn't even realize I never put the last part of this up on here!! I am SO sorry, to anyone who may have been waiting for this. It was up on fanfiction.net and I guess I forgot that I never put it up on here! Oops. I hope you will forgive my thoughtlessness.

Perry is worried.

His nemesis has been acting weird around him for a week now. He won't let the platypus see the contents of his closets, which he is usually only too eager to blather on about; he has a day in the middle of June circled in red on his calendar that he refuses to explain; and worst of all, he's stopped inviting Perry over outside of work. It's become something of a habit for them now, for Perry to visit even on days off and after thwartings: Sometimes he stays for dinner on weekends when Vanessa is there, sometimes he helps Heinz rearrange his furniture "to ease the flow of evil chi," and sometimes they just sit on the couch and watch soaps (which they both deny having cried during, thank you). Heinz usually makes cake. He's made a dozen different kinds, and they're all amazing.

When the evil scientist says nothing on Tuesday about Perry and him catching their usual soap tomorrow, the platypus can't help but feel a little heartbroken.

The following morning, Monogram sends him out early. "Dr. D. has acquired an industrial-sized mixer, 50 eggs, a half a ton of flour, and an entire orchard's worth of cherries, among other things," he'd said seriously. "We don't know what he's up to, but it sounds messy." Perry salutes and jetpacks away.

His webbed feet touch down lightly on the balcony of Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated shortly afterward. Heinz's invention of the day is huge, and covered by an enormous white tarp. He's just about to look for self-destruct buttons when suddenly the evil scientist strolls out onto the balcony, Norm the Giant Robot Man behind him.

"Perry the Platypus!" the doctor greets. He presses a small remote in his hand. "Why don't you sit down and stay awhile!" he cackles as a high chair rises out of the floor and belts the platypus in firmly. Perry struggles against the belt, but his paws are pinned by his sides and no matter how he wriggles he can't break free. He has tons of ways to get out of this, of course, but he figures he'll be polite and let his nemesis do his evil monologue first. He glares at Doofenshmirtz, hoping it will cue him.

"It took quite a while and quite a bit of planning and a LOT of wasted eggs," Heinz says, and then spitefully aside, " _Norm._ "

"I'm sorry, sir!" Norm says cheerfully. "I thought you wanted it crunchy!"

"WHERE DID YOU EVER _GET_ THAT IDEA, YOU INCOMPETENT—" Heinz takes a deep breath and reins in his outburst. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. What _matters_ is that _you,_ Perry the Platypus, are here to witness the power of my newest creation! _BEHOLD—_ " He rips the tarp off the massive object. " _The Celebrate-inator!"_ Perry's mouth falls open in awe and his eyes go wide. Before him is a gigantic, incredible, _impossible—_

"I know, I know, it just looks like an enormous birthday cake," Heinz says, and after a short pause, "That's because it is." He clears his throat and runs a hand through his unruly brown hair, suddenly awkward. "Um, I'm just gonna cut to the chase here: Happy Birthday, Perry the Platypus." Another pause. "This is your cake," he adds, gesturing unnecessarily to the un-miss-able confection.

Perry gapes. After a few seconds his eyes start to feel dry, so he blinks them rapidly. _Birthday cake? His? His birthday cake?_ How had the doctor known about Perry's birthday? Even Perry had forgotten Perry's birthday!

"I had to call Monobrow to find out when your birthday was, you know," his nemesis says as if reading Perry's thoughts, walking closer to Perry's high chair. "He didn't know it either! He told me to ask that strange kid, what's his name, Cal or something. And _that_ guy _did_ know!" There is something like pride in his voice as he tells the platypus everything he'd done to accomplish this task. "Who knows how _he_ knew? Then, I had to discover your favorite kind of cake! Chocolate. White. Angel. Devil. Over the past few months, I've made them all, but none of them captivated you quite so much as this one: the Black Forest cake!" He takes a moment to do his evil laugh before continuing, as if making a platypus a giant birthday cake were actually an insidious plot. "Of course, the hardest part was hiding the fact that I had a massive mixing bowl hidden in my closet. I had to use Norm's closet since it was the only one big enough."

"I slept on the floor next to the air vents!" Norm adds enthusiastically. "It was very lonely and uncomfortable!"

"You're a robot, Norm, you don't sleep!" Heinz says impatiently before turning back to Perry. "So, Perry the Platypus? What do you think?" He wrings his hands together, as if anxious about his nemesis's reaction.

He'd been planning this for _months?_ He'd asked _Carl_ for help? He'd made _Norm—_ well, okay, Perry thinks, the evil scientist would probably take any opportunity to kick the robot man out of his closet, but still… Heinz Doofenshmirtz, the man who had never had a birthday party, had planned one for his nemesis, and had managed to keep it secret this whole time.

Perry suddenly can't see very well. He blinks a few more times, and his vision returns. He's glad he's a platypus, because if he were human his voice might come out a choked squeak. Instead he makes his usual chatter. Heinz looks satisfied. "I thought you'd say that!" he says happily. "Norm, cut the cake!"

The giant robot's arm folds into his body, and then folds back out as a massive cake cutter. "Triangles or squares?" he inquires brightly.

"It's a cake, Norm, not a sandwich, it's a _circular—_ just cut it the way you cut a pizza! A _circular_ pizza!"

"Aye-aye, sir!" Norm responds. He still cuts it into squares.

* * *

A few minutes later, they're sitting on the couch, munching on pieces of rich chocolate-and-cherry cake and watching _The Loud and the Lovely._ "Yunno, Pe'wy the Pwat-apus," the evil scientist says around a mouthful, and then swallows. "It wasn't easy stirring all that cake batter. I had to add individual bowls of batter to the giant bowl before I used the giant mixer. It's a good thing I have a very durable mixing spoon, huh?" He smiles at the platypus sitting next to him. Perry pauses with a forkful of cake halfway to his mouth. "I'm talking about your nemeversary present," Heinz explains unnecessarily. Perry is suddenly having vision problems again.

He stares straight ahead at the television, the cake still not having made its way to his mouth, and makes the faintest of sniffling noises. He will _not_ cry in front of Heinz. The time on Dr. Feelbetter had been enough.

His nemesis notices Perry's expression anyway. "Aw, don't worry, I'm sure Monique will come around," he says comfortingly. The agent is glad to have an excuse to be emotional, so he nods. "You realize we're going to go back to being arch-enemies tomorrow, right?" The platypus nods. "And that I'm going to come up with a stupid plan and trap you and you'll thwart me, right?" Perry nods again. "Nothing's changed, has it, Perry the Platypus?" Heinz asks, and his friend shakes his head. "Nothing's ever going to change with us." Perry nods. He scoots closer to his companion on the couch and lays a small teal paw on top of the man's.

"Good," Heinz says, turning his hand over to clasp Perry's. "I like us the way we are."

Perry couldn't agree more.

—THE END—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading. You're amazing. Yes, you. And you should totally drop me a review, even if it's a short one. ;)


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